


A History of the Hargreeves Told in Doughnuts

by michals



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Griddy’s Doughnuts (Umbrella Academy), POV Minor Character, POV Third Person, no ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:55:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27598535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michals/pseuds/michals
Summary: Agnes thinks they're a strange group, those Umbrella Academy kids, but she can't help but grow fond of them as they come into Griddy's to get sick on far too many doughnuts through the years. She knows she shouldn't get too attached, but in the end how can she not?
Relationships: The Hargreeves & Agnes Rofa
Comments: 39
Kudos: 89





	A History of the Hargreeves Told in Doughnuts

**Author's Note:**

> So this is technically an AU where Agnes has been at Griddy's for a long time and actually knows the kids.

Agnes doesn’t know what to think the first time the odd group of children troop into Griddy’s at 9 o’clock at night, all decked out in perfectly pressed school uniforms, giddy smiles on their faces. There’s seven of them and they can’t be older than eleven. They stand inside the doorway in a little clutch as the door swings shut behind them, all looking around and taking in the diner like they’ve walked into a toy store. She has a brief worry that they’re going to start trouble but then the tall blonde boy points to the biggest collection of tables in the corner and leads the way. One boy skips as he goes.

They pile into the booth and they all sit up straight and tall, still grinning widely. It’s a little off putting, Agnes will admit. It’s rather weird, but then again she’s been working in greasy diners and shady bars since high school and she’s seen no end of strange things and stranger people. She rounds the counter and pulls out her notepad as she approaches.

“Well, hello there,” she says, usual friendliness in her voice, but before she can say ‘aren’t you all out a little late?’ the blonde boy speaks up.

“You serve doughnuts, right?” He squares his shoulders, hands placed politely in front of him. Even this young his voice says ‘I’m the leader’.

“It says they do on the sign,” a small boy who somehow looks serious even when smiling says, “Duh.” The leader’s shoulders slump a little and he narrows his eyes at the other boy.

“We do!” Agnes chirps, “The best in the county. Best in the state if I may say so myself.” They all seem to brighten up even more.

“We want a whole bunch,” the girl sitting next to the leader says excitedly, “Like…three boxes!”

Agnes’s eyebrows go up, “Three dozen! You think you guys can finish all those?”

All seven children nod enthusiastically and Agnes can’t hold back a giggle. She’s never really wanted them for herself but she’s always liked kids and there’s something charming about this little bunch.

“D-d-definitely!” a boy with black hair says, pride in his voice, “…even though we never had them b-before.”

Well that’s a shame, Agnes thinks. Judging by their uniforms they’re part of some private school, probably get fed nothing but healthy stuff, probably never even get dessert. Agnes starts to understand then. The late hour, the giddiness – seems like she’s looking at a bunch of happy delinquents.

“Any flavors in particular?”

They all look around at each other, unsure. The smallest boy, squished on the far side by the window leans over the table and says, “All of them?”

This gets another round of excited nods. Agnes smiles and heads back to the counter.

“What’s up with them?” the cook, Dino, asks when she comes up, peering at the kids with a leery look.

“Oh, I think they’re harmless,” Agnes says, picking up the first cardboard box and folding it before she starts plucking doughnuts off the display. She gives Dino a conspiratorial grin. “I think they’re rebelling.”

“Hmph,” Dino’s lips twist, “long as they don’t leave a big mess.”

Honestly they seem far too polite to, she glances over and they’re all still sitting prim and proper with their hands together. She overhears their chatter, they’re talking about what flavors they think they’ll like the best. Something about that makes Agnes’s chest swell with affection but she also feels sorry that they don’t even know. Poor things. She’s always been of the impression everyone deserves something sweet once in a while.

She swings back around with the first two boxes and places them on the table between them, “Here you go! I’ll get the third one in a minute here.”

They all look at the boxes with wide eyes for a beat, as if admiring them, then five little hands reach out and grab them at random. Once they pull away the smallest boy and the smallest girl (also at the end on the other side next to the window) reach for one each. They take huge first bites and Agnes stands by, waiting for their reactions. They all light up like sunshine.

“These are amazing!” the skipping boy says through his mouthful.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” the taller girl says looking down at hers with stars in her eyes.

“What’s this flavor?” the leader asks holding his up like a little trophy.

“That one’s maple flavored,” Agnes says, feeling fonder of them by the minute.

“Th-this one’s gotta be the best one,” the boy with black hair says to his.

“That one’s coconut!” Agnes tells him.

“Let me try that,” the serious one says, reaching for the other coconut one, his first one still in his other hand.

They all start talking over each other, comparing flavors and grabbing more before finishing their firsts. Agnes beams at them even though they don’t notice. She goes back and starts on the third box. By the time she brings it over they must have each eaten three.

She watches them from behind the counter. There’s only one other patron, an older man sitting on the opposite side of the room, quietly reading the newspaper and sipping on a cup of coffee, not seeming to be bothered by the kids’ jabbering.

Occasionally the skipping boy, the taller girl, and the leader will call over to her and ask what the flavor of the doughnut they’re holding up is and Agnes will tell them cheerfully: “Old fashioned” “Chocolate” “Strawberry” and they’ll go back to eating or will hand it off to another kid. The more she watches the more she likes the lot of them.

They make it through the first two boxes and a good three quarters of the third one and even from where she’s standing Agnes can see they’re all getting a little green around the gills. She probably should have known better, it’s likely the most amount of sugar they’ve had in their whole lives. Their conversation slows as they all start to slump in their seats, too full to talk. But they’re still smiling.

Agnes senses they’re about to tap out so she writes their total on the bottom of their receipt and heads back to them, all set to put it on the table with a cheerful ‘have a nice night!’ but then suddenly her mind goes blank when the tall girl opens her mouth and for a moment she’s not sure where she goes but when she comes to the door’s shutting on a flash of blue school uniform and there’s seven little backs rushing off down the street.

Well, dammit.

-

It’s six months later when they walk back into the diner and Agnes takes one look at them and crosses her arms over her chest, eyebrows raised. The skipping boy immediately holds a bill up over his head when he sees her.

“We have money this time!” he nearly shouts, looking dramatically contrite.

“Enough to make up for last time too,” the taller girl says apologetically on his left.

“Sorry about that,” the leader says, ducking his head embarrassedly.

Agnes can’t help how it pulls on her heartstrings and it only takes a second for her to forgive them. When she actually looks at the money and sees it’s a hundred dollar bill she accepts their apology completely.

“Hmm, alright I suppose,” she says but there’s a teasing tone to her voice and a burgeoning smile on her lips. When the three of them catch on and realize they’re not about to get kicked out they exchange elated glances with each other before waving the other four over to the same tables.

They sit in the same formation as they had and Agnes probably wouldn’t remember that if the group of them weren’t so distinctly memorable. They’re wearing their uniforms, though the boys’ shorts have been switched out to pants with the weather, the girls wearing tights under their skirts, and they sit the same way, all posed and proper. Agnes grabs her notebook.

“What’ll it be?” she says as she comes up to the table.

“Three dozen!” the leader says confidently, “Please.”

“W-with a whole bunch of c-c-c-“

“A whole bunch of coconut,” the serious boy cuts off the black haired one. The black haired one turns to him with a scowl.

“F-five you d-didn’t have to do that!”

The other boy turns to him. “You were taking too long.”

“Y-y-you’re a jer-”

“Guys!” the tall girl snaps at them, warning them with a look. The black haired boy looks angry but Agnes has seen a lot of people through the years and considers herself pretty good at reading them by now and sees there’s hurt behind the anger.

“It’s okay Diego,” the small boy on the far end says softly. Diego ducks his head and stares at the table.

“Well let me get those for you guys,” Agnes says, cheery as possible to cut through the tension, “all kinds with an extra helping of coconut!”

“They gonna pay this time?” Dino says from behind the grill with a sneer as she boxes them up.

“Saw the money myself,” she says with a placating smile.

She gets the two boxes ready but just before going back she pulls out a napkin and writes something on it with her fanciest handwriting and puts a single coconut doughnut on it and balances the lot in her hands and returns to the table.

“Your first two boxes with the works,” she sets them in the middle of the table like before, then puts down the single doughnut on top of the napkin with the name ‘Diego’ written on it in front of the black haired boy. A grin spreads across his face and he gives a smug, happy look to the others before taking a bite.

They dig in as eagerly as last time, the coconut doughnuts go first. Agnes returns to her place by the register. It’s a slow night and the kids are the only customers. She wipes down the laminate and wraps up silverware, half listening to the constant jabbering of the group.

“I went all the way across the building,” the serious one says, holding two doughnuts again.

“Nuh uh,” Diego says, “no way.”

“How would you know?”

“I believe you,” the small girl next to him says, and they’re on the side looking away but the serious one turns to her and Agnes catches a smile on his face in profile.

“Dad must have been happy about that,” the leader says and reaches for a doughnut from the second box but as he moves his arm across the table he winces and pulls it back. The girl at his side gets a sympathetic look in her eye and goes for the box.

“This one?” she asks; Agnes is paying enough attention now to notice her voice is hoarse. The leader nods and the girl puts the doughnut on his napkin.

“He _should_ be happy,” the serious one says, “he didn’t think I could do it.” Agnes can hear the frustration in his tone.

“He knows what’s best,” the leader says earnestly. The comment inspires a sort of uncomfortable shuffling around the table which only makes the leader sit up straighter. “It’s gonna happen any day now.”

Diego scoffs and says something in a sing-song under his breath and Agnes can only catch the word ‘underwear’. All the kids except the leader and the one girl start to giggle. The leader’s cheeks turn red.

The girl at his side sees this and with a strong but scratchy voice says, “I heard a rumor…you were nice for the rest of the night!”

The phrase ‘I heard a rumor’ makes something ping in the back of Agnes’s brain but she can’t seem to place it, a nebulous déjà vu hitting her. She snaps out of it at the kids all laughing.

“Hey Diego,” the skipping boy says in a lilting way, “can I have the rest of that?”

“Of course Klaus! Here you go!” Diego says and passes the doughnut in front of him over which elicits another round of laughter.

Klaus takes a giant bite of it and grins, “You’re so _nice_ Diego!”

Agnes knows they’re teasing him still but he seems to be going along with the joke. What a strange little group they are.

They finish about the same amount of doughnuts, leaving only a couple left in the last box which means that they had about four or five each and how they haven’t started hurling at the table is surprising. This must be a real treat for them, Agnes thinks. She wonders about their lives, about their uniforms and demeanors. They must be somewhat sheltered if they have to sneak out (again it’s almost 10 o’clock so she’s assuming there’s some open windows and maybe a rope made out of bed sheets somewhere). And for all their teasing they must be friends. Agnes almost gives into the temptation to ask.

Eventually they stack the boxes up and file out of the chairs. The leader comes up and puts the boxes on the counter and Agnes nearly melts at how cute his courteous smile is. Klaus makes for the door until the girl with the scratchy voice yanks at his arm and holds out her hand. Klaus gives an exaggeratedly apologetic expression as he pulls the hundred dollar bill out of his pocket and hands it to her.

She hands over the money, beaming. “Thank you for the doughnuts!”

“You’re quite welcome young lady!” Agnes says taking the bill and ringing it through.

“Oh my name is Allison,” she says, practically preening when she says it. “And his name is Luther,” she gestures to the leader who stands up straighter. “They’re brand new!”

“They’re very nice,” she says; she’s not really sure what Allison means by it but they both seem so proud. She finishes the transaction, including the bill from last time, and holds the change out.

Allison’s brow furrows as she looks at it. “What’s that?”

Agnes reminds herself that they’re kids. “Your change hon.”

“Oh no,” Allison says, shaking her head. “You can keep that!”

Agnes is thrown quite a bit. Their total is barely over $30, there’s no way they mean to leave a $70 tip. “…are you sure?”

“Yep!” Luther says, all sunshine. He turns to Allison and takes her hand and they head towards the door, opening it just in time to let in the sounds of a young boy losing the contents of his stomach all over the sidewalk.

“Aww Ben! Gross!” the serious one says and Agnes watches Klaus double over in laughter through the glass, the small girl hiding her amusement behind her hand.

“It’s okay Ben!” Diego chirps with his hand on the boy’s back, “We’ll get you home and clean you up! I’ll even carry you!”

Dino grumbles next to Agnes, “You’re gonna have to wash that off.”

Agnes goes to grab the bucket from the closet; for a 70 dollar tip she can definitely throw water on some vomit on the sidewalk.

-

It’s only a couple months later that they all show up again. They walk in with less of a spring in their steps but there’s a general air of revelry to them, their happiness less manic and more like accomplishment. Something good must have happened. They all smile and wave at Agnes as they come through the door and make their way to what’s becoming ‘their’ table. The formation is different this time but it doesn’t seem like a big deal to them that they’ve changed it up. Luther sits in the middle next to the serious one, the one Agnes is pretty sure is called Ben on his other side on the outside. Klaus play fights with Allison over who will sit on the end of the other side until Diego gives them a playful shove and takes the seat and the other two take the remaining chairs still giggling. But the small girl again takes the far chair at the end, next to the window, looking a lot less festive than the rest.

Agnes holds up her notepad in front of her like it’s a joke, like she doesn’t know the answer, “What’ll it be this time children?”

A line of smiles look up at her. “The usual ma’am!” Klaus says.

“Extra coconut?” she asks.

“Yes!” the chorus answers her.

“Right away then,” she turns with a flourish. She returns a moment later with the usual boxes. The group hasn’t talked much, a sort of stillness weighs over them but it’s not something oppressive, it seems happy and hopeful.

“Something’s got you all all upbeat huh?” she asks as she puts the doughnuts down and the same five of them reach out for their picks with Ben and the little girl following after.

“Yep!” Klaus says, “We’re about to be very important!”

“You are?” Agnes asks melodramatically, hands on her hips.

“We’re superheroes,” Luther says, practically beaming, looking so proud Agnes doesn’t even register what he’s said at first. “We’re going to save the world.”

Agnes has heard a lot of crazy talk over the years from all kinds of wild patrons, but that one is definitely new. She’s sure the confusion shows on her face but it doesn’t seem to faze the kids at all. “Save it from what?”

The serious boy shrugs, looks smug. “Everything,” he says.

“Dad says we’re ready,” Luther says, “he thinks we’re finally strong enough.” He looks about to burst.

“Oh, well,” Agnes nods in an assuring way, “I’ll be very excited to see it!” So far these kids have proven to be harmless and mostly good natured, just sneaking out once in a while for some treats. They’re strange, no doubt, but she can’t bring herself to think unkindly towards them. She has no idea what they mean by all this but if it makes sense to them and makes them happy then who is she to judge?

“Now, I just want to see if I’ve got this right,” she says, crossing her arms and putting a finger to the side of her face as if thinking hard. She points at Luther.

“Luther…” then to the girl across from him, “Allison…” They both nod and grin as if they’ve been complimented. Agnes points at the boy at the end, “Diego…” there’s a sweet twinkle in his eye as she says it and Agnes remembers the napkin and how happy it had made him. “Klaus…”

“Yep!” Klaus chirps and primps a little. Agnes chuckles. She points coyly at the smallest boy next to Luther.

“Ben,” she says with a smirk. She remembers his name from it being groaned at him as he threw up outside. He looks surprised that she knows it but pleased.

“However, I don’t know yours darling,” she says, tilting her head to see the little girl at the end past the others. The girl’s eyes go wide and she shifts around as if startled to be addressed.

“Me?” she asks in a small voice. Agnes nods encouragingly. “I’m Vanya.”

“Vanya! That’s so pretty. It’s Russian isn’t it?”

She blushes and a shy smile spreads across her mouth. “I think so, that’s what mom said.”

“And you,” Agnes says to the serious boy, “you’re the only one I don’t know now.”

The boy sits up straighter, puts his two doughnuts down so he can lace his fingers together in front of him and says confidently, “My name is Five.”

Agnes’s nose scrunches. “Five?”

“He likes it,” Luther says, “We all have numbers but he’s the only one who chose it as his name.” Five continues to look at Agnes like he’s prepared for her to challenge him and not for the first time she’s a touch disconcerted by how he can have such a baby face and yet seem older than he is.

“Well, it suits you,” Agnes says brightly. Five looks a little taken back at her acceptance, but then Klaus asks if he’s going to finish the chocolate glazed in front of him and Five snaps up the doughnut and pointedly takes a huge bite of it while looking Klaus in the eye.

When Agnes walks away to wipe down the counter, surreptitiously listening in again, the conversation is much harder to follow this time. They talk about training a lot – for what Agnes can’t possibly guess – and Five ‘jumping’ and Allison spreading rumors and she’s pretty sure she hears something about ghosts. It all seems to make sense to them. There isn’t even any squabbling this time around, whatever all this is about seems to have banded them together. Except Vanya who Agnes notices doesn’t say another word the whole time, none of the others appear to notice.

They eat about the same amount as the other times, Ben again looks one good heave away from losing all of it. Despite the mess Agnes finds it endearing that the littlest seems to eat the most (well, next to Luther, she swears last time the boy ate 8 all on his own). As they get up to leave Luther notices his sugar drunk companion and gives him an affectionate smile and turns around to scoop him up onto his back. Ben hiccups and droops his arms over his shoulders.

“Thank you again!” Allison says as she holds out another hundred dollar bill. “This is for you.”

Agnes takes it from her but before she starts to ring it up she asks cautiously, “This is a lot of money hon, you sure…someone won’t be missing it?” She really shouldn’t assume anything, Lord knows these kids have enough quirks that having a supply of hundreds to throw around would only add to the list, but she’s never in the mood for some angry teacher or headmaster barging in some day to shout about stolen cash.

“Oh no,” Allison shakes her head, “he’s very wealthy, he doesn’t even notice.” Agnes raises disbelieving eyebrows at her. Allison very emphatically says, “Very, _very_ wealthy.”

Well, what’s Agnes going to do, not take it? She gives Allison a sneaky smile that the girl returns before turning and skipping out the door after the others.

-

When she sees the kids again it’s on the front page of a newspaper two weeks later. Even if their masks did anything to hide their faces she recognizes those uniforms at a glance. Six of them smiling and posing proudly under a headline proclaiming them heroes. The article gives a brief summary of their triumphant foiling of a bank heist but most of it is spent going on about who exactly these miniature crimefighters are.

Turns out they’re the adopted children of Reginald Hargreeves, all of them a result of that strange day in October back in 1989 where 43 women randomly gave birth without being pregnant. Agnes remembers that whole thing, remembers seeing all the sensational stories on TV, the tabloids that talked about it for months and months after. She’s aware of who Reginald Hargreeves is, hard not to be. She knows he owns a house that takes up a whole city block, that he has several smart-person prizes of some sort, and that he’s a classic Eccentric Rich Guy. She definitely doesn’t feel bad about taking the money after that.

On the list of things she could’ve guessed at super powered protégés of a powerful billionaire was not what Agnes would have gone with, but now that she’s looking at it the dots start to connect. And of all the places for them to choose to pull off their micro-rebellions that they’d choose Griddy’s makes Agnes laugh. She’s had plenty of weirdness in her life, she supposes she can just chalk this up with the rest (it’s hard to beat, but the kids might actually manage to be stranger than the dog wearing pearls whose owner called it ‘mom’.)

It’s a day later that she sees them in person, though it’s later than usual, nearly midnight. They burst through the door like there’s a parade at their backs, all wide smiles and pride in their eyes. They wave at Agnes and even Dino enthusiastically and take their seats like the table had been reserved just for them.

Agnes congratulates them and she can practically feel the swell of satisfaction and joy in the room as they thank her.

“It’s what we were meant to do,” Luther says. “He knew we could handle it.”

“W-we were on the news!” Diego nearly shouts.

“We looked amazing,” Klaus says. Allison gives a big, newspaper worthy smile.

Agnes gets them the usual and they all dig in except this time they hold the doughnuts like they’re trophies and seem to savor each one like a prize. Their conversation is all about knife throwing and criminals and guns and Agnes is a touch unnerved because they’re children and they really shouldn’t be talking about those kinds of things but it’s nothing that wasn’t already in the news. They’d stopped a violent robbery, they really were superheroes weren’t they.

Even Vanya – who Agnes had noticed was absent from the newspaper article – is beaming and eagerly listening to her siblings giddily recount the event and compliment each other. ‘That guy flew so far Luther!’ ‘Shooting him in the foot? Great idea Allison’, ‘You took out those guys all on your own Ben!’, ‘That knives line was hilarious’. Agnes remembers then that they’re actually siblings, and finds it makes the whole thing cuter than if there were just friends, what a ragtag little bunch they are.

The polish off every last doughnut this time, finally falling out of their standard uptight postures to loll around like well fed puppies. They stay for a good half hour after and finally get out of their chairs moving like syrup. Klaus whines at Luther to carry him, says: “I’m just so tired from saving the day and all.” Luther rolls his eyes but smiles as he lets him climb over his back, Klaus grinning smugly. Diego slings an arm around Five’s shoulders and Five actually lets him. Allison and Vanya flank the typically green looking Ben, taking each of his hands in theirs. Allison gives Agnes the hundred dollar bill and they walk through the door with a wave.

-

The kids pop up in the news almost once a week after that; another robbery, a fire, a smuggling, even the odd ‘super villain’ (Agnes can’t say those were actually a problem before but the world’s only getting stranger). They also make regular appearances in the tabloids on the racks that Agnes passes in the stores. She never buys them but reads the covers. ‘INSIDE THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY: A HOUSE OF SECRETS’, ‘WHAT THEY WON’T TELL YOU ABOUT THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY’, ‘DEAD NANNIES, WHAT REGINALD HARGREEVES DOESN’T WANT YOU TO KNOW’, ‘REGINALD HARGREEVES: ALIEN?’ She always tsks and rolls her eyes. People will say all kinds of things to sell their trash.

She follows them in a casual way. They’re such a charming lot and it’s impossible not to cheer at their victories and various accolades. A key to the city here, an appearance on a talk show there. Even Dino admits to how cute they were (she’s never heard him use the word ‘cute’ before) on The Tonight Show. She’ll get the occasional customer who reads the paper over their plate of bacon and eggs and she’ll say with a proud little grin, ‘they come in here sometimes, they love the coconut doughnuts’.

But it’s months later that she sees them again in the restaurant. She sees them through the window and is all ready with a smile for them and a ‘wow, celebrities in my little diner!’ but it falters as they come through the door. They walk in as a huddled group with Allison at the center like a buffer around her. The girl looks shaken and upset, one hand holding her other forearm. Luther’s hand hovers at her back, concern on his face, the same look on Ben’s as she walks on her other side. Klaus’s cheer is obviously forced.

“Hi Agnes,” he chirps, “The usual please!”

Agnes nods, forces some cheer herself, “Of course.”

They take their seats, Luther still at her right but this time Klaus on the other side, the others’ eyes intent on her. There’s not much talking as Agnes brings the two of three boxes.

There’s a weak chorus of thank you’s and Agnes feels a pang of real hurt hearing it said so lackluster in comparison to every time before.

“Of course,” she says again, “any time sweethearts.” She’s a little surprised that the endearment slips out but there’s just the briefest spark of happiness that flares across their faces to hear it and she doesn’t fully understand why it makes her proud and sad at the same time.

She retreats to the counter, gives a half hearted attempt to check in with the man there nursing a coffee and then starts to wipe down the counter like usual. She catches the end of Luther’s sentence.

“-wouldn’t have let it happen.”

“Wouldn’t he have?” Diego snaps across from him. Luther glares at him.

“But it didn’t happen,” Vanya says earnestly, Agnes has never heard her speak up like this, “because you guys stopped it.” Her eyes are wide and imploring as she looks around the table.

“Yeah, we did,” Klaus says, still trying to sound upbeat.

“Dr. Terminal almost _cut off my arm_ ,” Allison suddenly seethes. Not towards any one of them in particular but they all shrink to hear it.

She sniffles then, mouth twisted, and drops down against Luther’s shoulder, Klaus puts a hand on her arm. The others shift in their seats and they’re quiet for a while.

Five’s the first one to open the box of doughnuts. Takes one and puts it in front of himself then takes a second and puts it on a napkin and slides it across to Allison. She blinks down at it for a moment before picking it up and taking a bite. She chews for a moment, then there’s the faintest hint of a smile on her face and takes another. The others all mirror that tiny smile and take their own doughnuts.

They don’t talk much and they only finish the one box. Agnes spends the whole time trying to make sense of someone trying to cut that poor little girl’s arm off.

-

It’s a while before they come to Griddy’s again and when they do return they look worn out and run down, every one of them except Vanya. Agnes’s genuine first thought is that they’re sick.

They drop into the chairs like they’ve just run a marathon. Agnes doesn’t bother to ask, brings the first two boxes of doughnuts to their table without prompting (last time she had taken the uneaten second box to the shelter a couple blocks from her home, if the kids don’t eat this one she can do the same, it’s not a big deal). Another round of ‘thank you’s and they dig in far more enthusiastically than last time, but there’s still not a lot of talk. It’s not just Five this time, somehow they all seem older than they look.

It’s an oddly busy night for the restaurant. A couple on the other side of the diner takes her attention away; they’re young, a toddler sleeping in the father’s lap. A more middle aged couple sits a table away. Two truckers at the counter swap road stories while working through plates of eggs and sausages. Agnes attends to all of them before moving to fiddle with silverware at the far end.

“’S not like we meant to,” Diego grumbles. 

“He doesn’t care,” Allison says, voice hoarse again.

“Cares enough,” Klaus says and this time the lightness in his voice is ironic, a feat for a 13 year old Agnes thinks. “Cares enough that we didn’t even get free time this week.”

“The training’s good for us,” Luther says so quietly Agnes almost doesn’t hear him.

“I don’t need more training,” Five says, frustration in his tone, “He needs to let me just do what I can do.”

“Five, maybe you shouldn’t-“ Vanya starts but she’s cut off by a voice calling to them from the other side of the room.

“Hey!” one of the truckers says, “Aren’t you those Umbrella kids?”

They turn his way and look confused, strangely, like they don’t know how to react. Then all the others turn to Luther.

Luther straightens up, “Yes we are.”

“Ain’t you all a little young to be out so late?” the other trucker asks teasingly.

“We’re plenty old enough,” Five says with a snide smile.

The first trucker gives the other a smack on the arm, “Don’t piss ‘em off Roger they’ll kick your ass.” The both of them chuckle. They’re not mocking the kids, just jibbing each other but the children shift uncomfortably all the same.

“Does your father know you’re here?” the middle aged man sitting across from his wife asks.

“H-he doesn’t need to know and it’s none of your business” Diego snaps. This earns him a look from Luther and Allison.

“Yeah, mind your own damn business,” Klaus says jeeringly, earning a glare too.

“Watch your mouth young man,” the wife responds sharply.

Agnes steps into the middle of the room then, hands up placatingly. “Now, let’s not get all riled up,” she looks between the kids and the couple and the truckers. “They just come in for doughnuts sometimes, they _are_ the best in county!” She gives her best diner waitress smile.

The older couple huff and turn back to their meals, the truckers to theirs, but the kids look back at their boxes of doughnuts uneasily, self conscious now. 

Suddenly Allison looks directly at the younger couple who have been silent until now, asks, “What was that?”

Agnes hadn’t really registered whatever it was that the man had muttered across the table to his wife but apparently Allison had. He looks a little thrown at suddenly being the center of attention, glances at his wife, then repeats himself. “Someone _should_ tell your father. Tell him a lot of things.”

The wash of worry that ripples through the children is almost palpable.

“It’s not right,” the man says, and there’s genuine concern in his eyes, “It’s not right, you kids going out there to fight _criminals_. After what happened the other day-”

“It was an accident,” Allison shoots back, shoulders back and a sharp look in her eye.

“Tim…” the man’s wife says, putting a hand on his arm.

“No, I mean it,” Tim continues. “Everyone acts like it’s ok! That man is a psycho-”

There’s a loud thump as Luther’s fists hit the table and the cheap laminate crumbles. The boy jumps to his feet, his chair clattering to the floor. His hands are clenched and his face red.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about! We have a purpose and it’s ‘cause of him!”

Everyone in the room recoils, Agnes included, but Luther doesn’t back down. There’s something desperate underneath the anger in his eyes.

“Hey kid! Don’t make me call the cops!” Dino’s voice cuts through the diner as he finally emerges from behind the grill.

Agnes whirls around at him, “Dino, hush!” There is absolutely no need for that, these kids wouldn’t hurt anyone here, she can’t even imagine it.

Luther’s face falls when a hand wraps around his wrist and surprisingly – to Agnes – it’s Five’s.

“They’re idiots,” he says, “let’s go.” Luther looks down at his brother and then to the table where two chunks of it are now missing. He flushes, looks like his heart’s just sunk down to his shoes. Five pulls on Luther’s arm and leads him out, scowling fiercely at everyone else in the diner, Luther’s gaze is pointed at the floor.

The others all quietly get out of their chairs, Diego glares the same as Five but says nothing. Vanya and Ben try and huddle behind him and Klaus, avoiding looking anywhere as they file out. Allison approaches Agnes, shuffles through her pocket and comes up with a couple bills from her stash this time. 

“This should…” she tilts her head towards the table, “pay for it. Maybe.” There’s at least $500 there. Agnes feels her shoulders drop and a sad smile come across her face.

“That should do just fine. They’re cheap tables.”

Allison gives the barest flicker of a smile before she follows the others.

“Goddamn kids,” Dino mutters.

The truckers and the older couple have returned to their meals for the most part but they’re all muttering to each other in judgmental voices. From across the room Agnes can just hear the young couple murmuring to each other.

“I’m not sorry though,” Tim says, “someone should say something.” He looks down at the little toddler in his arms who slept through the whole thing.

A day later Agnes is throwing out a stack of old newspapers when she comes across one from the other day – November 2nd. ‘BOTCHED RESCUE BY ACADEMY’, the headline reads, ‘RAID LEAVES TWO DEAD.’

-

She doesn’t see them again for a well over a year. Some nights she’ll look up at the chiming of the bell on the doorframe half expecting it’s them but it never is. She thinks it’s cause they’re embarrassed – Luther especially, or maybe they’re afraid they’ll run into more people like from that night. Agnes doesn’t need to read every little article about them to understand now that she wasn’t that far off when she figured these kids didn’t get out much, it seems they don’t get out at all. But they’d chosen Griddy’s to make their journeys out into the world and Agnes is sad to see them stop.

But mostly she figures it’s because of Five disappearing. It didn’t make a huge splash in the news at first. The Hargreeves were a strange bunch and Reginald Hargreeves wasn’t very talkative except only in the most diplomatic manners. Sometimes she thinks he’s like a robot in a human suit. So when at first Five didn’t show up for their ‘missions’ anymore people posited that he was sick, except weeks became months and there was no sign of the fifth Hargreeves child.

The tabloids were, of course, the most preoccupied with the disappearance and their favorite theory was that Reginald murdered him. Agnes always felt her blood boil when she saw those salacious covers, what a terrible thing to think. Sometimes they say he was killed on a mission and Reginald was keeping it quiet, some just say the boy ran away. Once she sees one that says one of the other children killed him, maybe by accident, and she has to drive out to the country on her day off and spend the whole day crossing birds off her list just to calm down.

She doesn’t know what she thinks happened to the little boy who seemed older than he looked and always took two doughnuts at a time.

It’s two days before Christmas when she looks up and sees six little figures standing just outside the glass door. They hesitate before Allison – of course Allison – steps up and swings the door open.

“Hi Agnes,” she says with a timid smile.

Agnes grins right back, “Hi sweetheart, it’s been a while. Come on in.”

Allison’s eyes flick over to behind the grill but Dino retired 6 months prior and Charlie, a sweet old man who’s been cooking since he was in short pants, just gives a welcoming smile in return. Allison brightens and gestures her siblings to follow her. Luther hesitates at the back of the group though, just outside. He looks at Agnes, shy and chagrined. Agnes just gives him a wave.

“You should see our new table.”

He’s still sheepish as he joins the rest, but he does join them.

Agnes gets two boxes of a dozen all packaged up and drops them between the children but only gets weak smiles and faint ‘thank you’s in return. Her heart gives a painful beat.

There’s no talk as they all reach in and take their picks, Agnes is watching closely enough to see none of them have picked coconut. They sit and eat quietly for long minutes, finally interrupted by Vanya sniffling and wiping her eyes. The others all look her way but shift awkwardly in their seats. Klaus reaches over Diego and pats her back.

“We shouldn’t have come,” Ben says, staring down at his half eaten doughnut. By now he’d have polished off two.

“Yes we should have,” Allison says insistently. “It’s our Christmas present.”

“Yeah, it’s our present to ourselves, remember?” Klaus says brightly, as brightly as he can manage anyway. He says it like maybe that had been the reason they’d all told themselves they can go out again after so long. After, well…

But Vanya’s shoulders stay slumped, her eyes wet. There’s a pause, heavy and sad. Klaus looks out across all of them, his eyebrows furrowed, then with a showy, determined gesture pulls out a coconut doughnut and shoves it in his mouth.

“He’d have wanted us to have these,” he says messily through his mouthful.

“No he wouldn’t have,” Diego mumbles, then with a twitch of his lips, “He’d have wanted them all for himself.”

There’s a flicker of amusement among them and Agnes has to hide her smile behind the menu she’s wiping down. They all reach in and take a coconut doughnut then, Klaus taking two and dropping the second in front of Vanya. They all dig in, chewing with soft contented looks on their faces. But then they drop away and they all go quiet again.

The two women on the far side of the diner taking their time to eat through a half dozen as they chat call Agnes over then to refresh their coffees. They’re gabby and they manage to rope her into small talk that she can’t get out of without being rude. When she does go back to the counter the kids have all finished their doughnuts. Luther and Diego pick away at a third one each while the others contemplate the crumbs on their napkins.

Agnes still can’t imagine having kids of her own but never before has she wanted to take one home much less six of them.

They all leave that night with sweet little ‘goodbyes’ and ‘merry Christmas’s. As always Allison comes to her with the money, stepping up to Agnes with her scarf wound around her shoulders and powdered sugar on her jacket. She stops for a second before throwing her arms around her. Agnes is surprised for a moment, but only a moment, then winds her arms around the girl’s neck.

“Merry Christmas sweetheart,” she says.

“Merry Christmas,” Allison responds.

-

Months go by and there’s still the occasional news article or magazine spread or some sleazy thing written in a cheap rag somewhere. Agnes can’t help but read them differently now. Every time she reads about the Hargreeves kids taking down some adult with terrible intentions she thinks back to what the man with the baby said. It’s not _really_ right, is it? Fair, though, they do have superpowers. It’s not like _Agnes_ would be much good in a fight, it’s not like she’s capable of what they are.

Agnes likes simple things; she likes bird watching, and doughnuts, and walking to work on brisk fall afternoons. She likes the night shifts cause they bring in the most interesting people. She’s always met them with an amused smile and a curious ear and she thinks back on some of them fondly and the strange stories they tell her. But those kids…Those kids are more complicated and she doesn’t know what to think.

They come in four more times before the tragedy that would happen years later. Every time there’s the distinct hole in their seating arrangement left for a brother whose story still doesn’t have any answers and the sparkle in their eyes that was there on their first few visits lessens more and more. Agnes always greets them with a grin and a happy hello. She can even get a smile out them once in a while.

The first of the four times Diego’s limping and he and Luther are arguing. The others roll their eyes at them, Allison sitting instead on the side next to Klaus and Vanya and leaving the two to bicker with Ben between them.

“You were careless!”

“You hesitated!”

“You should have listened to me!”

“You should have planned better!”

Allison and Klaus groan in unison. In a move that seems almost unconscious Klaus picks up the doughnut in front of it and tosses it across the table where it bounces off of Luther’s forehead. Both boys go silent. Until Diego bursts out laughing. So Allison throws one at him too.

“Hey!” Diego goes for the one in front of him but Agnes catches them just in time.

“Now now! Any mess you guys make you’re going to have to clean up yourselves!”

All six look her way with abashed expressions. It’s Ben, actually, who starts snickering. Then Klaus, then the rest save Luther and Diego. Even Vanya’s hiding a smile under the curtain of her hair. Luther wipes the frosting off his forehead with the back of his hand, lips pursed, and Diego grumbles as he swipes at his uniform with a napkin. They do pick up the doughnuts though.

-

The second time the five of them shuffle inside with Ben at the center and it reminds Agnes of the time they’d walked in with Allison as she held her arm, fear in her eyes, only they’re all chattering away at the boy in the middle.

“You did great.”

“We won because of you.”

“You _had_ to, it’s okay Ben, really.”

But Ben doesn’t look very happy about whatever it was, his chin nearly to his chest, letting Klaus tug him along to the booth. Agnes moves double time to box up the dozen doughnuts (they hadn’t even cracked open the second box the last few times) and bring them to the table.

“Hi Agnes,” Allison says, Luther, Diego and Klaus echoing her. But Ben stays quiet, eyes on the table, Vanya watching him closely with a curious look on her face. Agnes might almost call it blank.

Agnes almost asks ‘how are you all?’ but stops herself. She’d have asked that a couple years ago, when they first started coming in, but something stops her now. She can’t quite figure out what.

“Big day?” she asks instead, it comes out more cautious than she intended.

Allison looks towards Ben for a beat then turns back, “A good day. We won.”

“That’s great,” Agnes says softly. It is great, they saved the day, they’re heroes. So why does that make something ache in the depth of her heart? Whatever is it makes her say it: “He must be proud of you.”

Four faces snap up then, looking at her with an emotion that even her world weary mind can’t place. Somehow they’re all different and yet the same. Oh, Agnes doesn’t know what to say to them.

“He’s…happy,” Luther says, but it’s the most unsure he’s ever sounded.

Ben’s voice pipes up then, “He’s never happy.” He buries his head in his arms crossed on top of the table. “No matter what it takes.” The others don’t say anything.

-

The third time Luther’s not there, and neither is Vanya. Allison and Klaus approach the counter and ask for the doughnuts to go. Off of Agnes’s questioning look Allison explains, “He broke his leg.”

“And Vanya didn’t want to come,” Klaus says.

“Oh no,” Agnes slips an extra two coconut doughnuts in the box with a wink, “sugar is great for broken bones though.”

“She didn’t want to come cause it’s the anniversary of Five,” Diego says suddenly. Allison turns to him sharply.

“Diego knock it off.”

“What?” he says with an angry shrug, “it’s not like she didn’t want to come cause Luther didn’t, she doesn’t care. _I_ don’t care. Clumsy idiot.”

Allison breathes heavy like she’s trying to hold back. “Why do you have to be such an asshole?”

“Hey now, language,” Agnes says but she’s ignored.

“It wasn’t cause he was clumsy,” Klaus counters, “it’s cause dad pushed him too hard, he does that you know.” His voice is laden with sarcasm as he says the last part.

Diego looks at least somewhat abashed. “He lets dad push him too hard. That’s why he’s an idiot.”

Allison does finally break at that, stamping her foot, cheeks flushed. “Just cause you hate everything it doesn’t make you better than us!”

Diego’s mouth snaps shut and the look of derision gets wiped from his face. Allison turns and grabs the box out of Agnes’s hands, too angry to be polite about it, then storms off towards the door. Klaus gives Diego a glance but then follows Allison. She makes to swing the door open but stops at Ben’s hand on her arm.

“We have to pay,” he says. Allison sniffs, shoves her hand in her pocket but is gentle when she puts it in Ben’s open palm. Then she turns and strides out the door, Klaus on her heels.

Ben approaches Agnes, holds out the hundred. “Sorry, we…didn’t mean to fight.” Diego ducks his head though his mouth stays in a defiant line.

“It’s alright hon,” Agnes says, taking the bill. “Siblings are always squabbling. And you guys are the most sibling-ish siblings I’ve ever seen.”

The grin that spreads across Ben’s face is surprised, like he wasn’t expecting it, but also fond.

-

The fourth time feels like the night they’d had the outburst with the other customers, they all troop through the door looking battle worn (what a terrible thing to think about children, Agnes admonishes herself), but there’s something especially off about Klaus. He walks in in a daze, Diego’s hand around his arm keeping him steady. He has to guide Klaus into his chair.

Agnes approaches a little more cautiously than usual; there’d been a big thing with one of their ‘super villains’ the other day (honestly, how did anyone come up with the name Valex Valex?) and from the article it had sounded like, well, sounded like quite the fight. Lots of destruction, lots hospitalized, but no one died, at least. “Hi again,” she says, putting the box on the table, “it’s always such a treat to see you all.”

As always there’s a round of sweet, small smiles, though Klaus’s comes across as manic and the look in his eyes unfocused, and Vanya doesn’t smile at all. Blank, again. It makes Agnes feel unsettled.

This time, at least, they talk. Not about much, thank goodness not about their training which Agnes has grown to dislike hearing about. It’s necessary, like Luther says, for all the things they have to deal with, but Agnes doesn’t really want to know that much about it.

“I could, if I wanted to,” Allison says, pulling apart a bearclaw, “that lady from Teen Vogue says I’m probably a natural.” She shoots Diego a look, “And it wouldn’t just be because I’m in the Umbrella Academy.”

“I didn’t even say anything,” Diego grumbles and rolls his eyes, “go to Hollywood if you want to so bad.”

“You’d be good,” Ben says, “you always look good on the news too.” Allison gives him an affectionate nudge with her shoulder.

“I could be in pictures,” Klaus says, the words slurred, “don’t I have just the face for it?” He bats his eyelashes and shoves a doughnut in his mouth gracelessly.

“You’re going to choke,” Diego says, yanking the rest of it away, making it crumble onto the table.

“You’re underestimating my skills,” Klaus says with a sloppy smirk.

“Klaus! Stop,” Luther says but it’s less a command than a plea, concern in his eyes.

“Eat something,” Allison does demand, “ _normally._ It’s supposed to help.”

Klaus rolls his eyes so dramatically he nearly falls off his chair. “You’re all so fucking bossy. You’re all gonna turn into him.”

Four sets of shoulders go stiff, mouths downturned. Vanya just blinks.

“Let’s go, this isn’t gonna work,” Diego huffs, pushing himself out of his chair. The others follow suit but when Diego reaches out for Klaus the other boy shakes him off, yanking his arm away.

“Leave me alone,” he says, voice suddenly bitter. “I’m not going home.”

The others exchange uneasy glances. When Diego reaches out again Klaus moves away even more violently, reaching for another doughnut and biting into it, determinedly not looking back at them.

“Klaus, we have to…” Luther says, anxiousness still undercutting the conviction.

“Go away. I’m not going back.”

Allison stares at Klaus’s back for a moment then sighs. When she steps over to him he doesn’t look at her.

“I heard a rumor,” she says, low and steady, “that you came home with us.”

Agnes knows by now what Allison’s power does, has wondered once or twice how useful it must be and heck, Agnes herself could use something like that occasionally with an unruly customer or those talkative joggers that interrupt her birding, but seeing it in person like this feels…well, it makes her shiver.

And without another word or anymore fuss Klaus gets up from the table and steps up next to Allison. She doesn’t seem happy about it. She pays, they leave.

-

Agnes sees it on the news, her TV playing in the background as she gets ready for work. The reporter sounds so flat and uninterested and she’s angry at first before she’s sad. There’s a tiny picture in the corner of the screen, Ben’s not even smiling in it. Something gone wrong on a mission, they don’t even say what. She puts a hand to her mouth, stands there in the middle of her living room watching.

She thinks about that boy, tagging along with his louder, more animated siblings. He’d been so much smaller than them, but he’d grown up hadn’t he? Agnes watched him ‘til he was at least as tall as Diego. It doesn’t seem to make sense, him being gone. That they’d lose two of them. Thrown into the fray. Casualties for the greater good.

At work that night she hides a tear behind a menu and Charlie acts like he doesn’t notice though his face is sympathetic. She acts like her usual self, all pep and positivity, only every time the bell over the door chimes she looks up but knows it won’t be them.

But it’s sooner than she expects when she sees them again. It’s late, almost two a.m. and her shift is over, Margie just starting hers. She’s slinging her purse over her shoulder, her apron over her elbow, when they come up to the diner.

“Oh! Welcome back sweethearts!” she can hear how overly cheerful she’s being, “I just finished but I’d be happy to pop back in just for you guys.”

Klaus steps forward, “That’d be great. We are desperately in need of a sugar hit.” He grins widely and turns to the others, “Right?”

But the others aren’t smiling, aren’t even looking at the diner or Agnes. She’s never seen the idea of a storm cloud over someone’s head displayed so perfectly. They all look so sad Agnes almost doesn’t want to believe they’re the same kids that had first walked in those few years ago.

“Guys,” Klaus prompts, sounding like he’s about to beg, “come on, we need this.”

“We shouldn’t be here,” a voice from the back speaks up and Agnes looks over at Vanya who’s got tears streaming down her face. “Not without him.”

Klaus’s shoulders slump, expression crumpling. “He’d want us to.” He looks at Agnes as he says it, but then again not really, he seems to be looking through her. She checks around but finds no one behind her.

Vanya coughs on a sob. “We shouldn’t have come without either of them.” Her eyes flick up to Agnes just briefly and for the first time in a while there’s actually something there besides vague emptiness. She turns away, dashing off down the sidewalk.

“Vanya!” Klaus calls after her.

Allison watches Vanya go, takes two steps to go after her but she too looks back at Agnes, then to Klaus. She wraps her hand around Luther’s – Luther has barely moved this whole time, still as a statue and just as silent – and tugs him along behind.

Diego opens his mouth but nothing comes out, he gives Klaus a look somewhere between sympathy and frustration, then he goes.

Agnes doesn’t know what to do. She wants to say ‘it’s okay sweetheart’ or ‘come on in, you can still have one’ or ‘it was nice of you to try’, but she doesn’t. She feels suddenly like an interloper, a meddlesome fan, and they don’t need that. Not from her.

Klaus turns to her, gives a sad smile and a wave as he starts walking away. “Bye Agnes, maybe some other time.”

-

She never sees them together after that. All of a sudden it’s as if the world just stops caring about the Umbrella Academy and it seems like Reginald Hargreeves stops caring about the world knowing about them. She stops seeing their faces in magazines and newspapers or on television screens, but they still pop up in the tabloids, of course. Peddling even more conspiracy theories about Ben, about their lives, still recycling an old story about Five when they run out of anything else.

Agnes continues her simple joys, her simple life. She drives around the county on her days off ticking off birds on her list, finally lets herself splurge on an extra fancy pair of binoculars from all the tip money she’s saved up (she often gets so caught up in her watching that she forgets where they came from), watches reruns of Lucy and Laverne and Shirley. She comes up with a new doughnut flavor and pitches it to Charlie and he says, “I don’t really like hazelnuts.”. She huffs good naturedly and tells him they’re popular right now.

Then one day she looks up idly as the bell chimes like she always does and finds Luther standing in the doorway. He’s even taller than he’d been before, a beanpole of a boy (Agnes always thought that was kind of funny, that he was so scrawny but he was the one with the super strength), but his uniform’s not quite as pressed as usual and his usually slicked back hair is mussed. He looks like he just tumbled out of bed.

“Hey there darling,” she gives him a soft grin, “glad to see you.” She doesn’t ask where the others are though she wants to. He looks so…off without the gaggle of his brothers and sisters at his back. From the look on his face he feels it too.

“Hi,” he says. He shuffles awkwardly on his feet, like he doesn’t know what to do from here. His eyes flicker towards their cluster of tables.

“Take a seat anywhere you like,” she tells him, “I’ll be right with you.”

He gives a shaky nod and slowly steps over to a table on the complete opposite side of the other ones. The significance of this isn’t lost on Agnes: the others won’t be coming tonight.

She settles the tab of another customer before she goes over to Luther. She almost brings over a whole dozen doughnuts just for him, he could probably polish them all off on his own. But instead she asks, “What’ll it be?”

He glances down at the menu, uncertainty in the crease of his brow. “Uhm, eggs, I guess. And bacon?”

For some reason this makes Agnes’s heart clench. But she smiles and says, “Coming right up!”

She puts the order in with Charlie and watches Luther from the corner of her eye as she attends to someone else. He’s looking over the diner like it’s the first time he’s really seen it. As if all those times before he’d been too distracted by his siblings to notice. He fidgets anxiously as he waits.

Agnes puts the food down in front of him and he almost startles, gives a tight lipped grin. He rubs his hands on his pants before he picks up his fork. Then he just kind of, stares at his plate. Agnes doesn’t want to walk away.

There’s the bell again, and another group of customers, more truckers like usual, and she’s pulled away. She takes their orders and they make a joke about the food being better than pork rinds and beef jerky and she gives a polite chuckle when the sound of something shattering catches everyone’s attention.

Luther’s looking at his hand, the remnants of the plastic cup of water are scattered on the tabletop and water drips over the side and down the sleeve of his shirt. He looks bewildered for a half second before it turns to anguish and he jumps up out of his chair, already babbling apologies.

“I’m sorry,” he says and his voice is choked and his cheeks red. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to!”

Agnes is already across the room, her hands up in a pacifying gesture, keeping her voice gentle when she says, “It’s alright hon, it’s alright.”

Luther’s eyes are watery as he looks at her, as he balls his hands into fists – not in an aggressive manner but something Agnes can now tell is how he keeps his hands to himself – and gives a hiccup before he stammers out, “It’s just- It’s just that-” His eyes glance again to the tables on the other side of the diner. Agnes doesn’t need him to explain.

“I should go,” he says and shrinks into himself in a way she didn’t think someone that tall could. He looks towards the mess on the table, moves as if to clean it up when Agnes shoos his hands away.

“I can take care of this, don’t worry about it.” His fingers curl back into protective fists. Agnes looks at him, really looks, and then determinedly goes behind the counter, grabs a doughnut – maple flavored – and drops it in a paper bag. She goes back to him, holding it out with a smile.

Luther pats at his pockets, starts to pull out a bill but Agnes pushes the bag into his hand. “Nope, this one’s on me. It’s a gift.”

Luther takes it from her and he nods, doesn’t look back as he leaves.

-

Allison’s on the front of a magazine but this time it’s not because of the Academy, it’s because she’s been cast in a movie. What a transition, the article says, from superhero to superstar! But this time she gets way more costumes, what fun! Agnes reads it with fondness and excitement; Allison had wanted to go to Hollywood and she’d done just that. Gotten a role right away even! She’s a clever girl, that’s for sure. But it’s only then that Agnes realizes that means she’d left the house and moved away. She has the suspicion that she wasn’t the only one. It explains Luther.

It explains why none of the others have ever come in either. Agnes didn’t really know them and she shouldn’t say she did. For everything she’s learned of them, everything she’s seen, she really never was more than a waitress. It’s not a feeling she’s used to – People come and go and have her whole life. She remembers some of them while others are just faces easily forgotten. But those seven little kids, grown up through the years in cheap diner chairs, left an impression.

She even grows to appreciate – in a melancholy way – seeing the pictures of Ben and Five on the covers of The Enquirer.

So when Luther again steps through the door Agnes gets a little burst of joy in her chest. He’s taller still, somehow, and he towers over her.

“How in the world do you keep getting bigger?” She says fake seriously, hands on her hips. He actually gives a little smile and a one shouldered shrug. She gives a wave towards the room, “Anywhere you like sweetie.”

He chooses a table close to neither the team’s table or the one from last time. He still looks uneasy. When Agnes asks what he wants his face scrunches in thought. “Is…the BLT any good?”

“Delicious the way Charlie makes it.”

He nods and hands back the menu, says ‘thank you’. The diner is empty right now, the only noise the radio playing some Frank Sinatra song and Charlie putting the bacon on the grill.

For as big as he is Luther looks small sitting alone. He takes his plate with a polite, tight lipped smile, starts in on it without a word.

Agnes leans on her hand on the counter, newspaper open and tries to pretend she’s not watching him though it’s hard to do. She has to shake herself out of it, tell herself to mind her own beeswax but when she looks back at the paper she notices the date: October 1st. Same as it was last time he’d come in alone.

She tosses the thought around in her head a bit before she resolves herself to it. She picks out one of the smaller boxes and takes half a dozen doughnuts from the wall – her personal favorites – rounds the corner and comes up to the table where Luther looks up at her questioningly.

“Mind if I join you?” she asks. Luther only gets more befuddled but she doesn’t wait for an answer before dropping down in the chair across from him.

“Slow right now, sure you can see, and I haven’t eaten since this afternoon,” she lays down a napkin and picks out an apple fritter and takes a bite. Wonderful, as always. “Good batch today Charlie!” she calls and the chef gives a proud wave of his spatula.

Luther’s still looking at her like he doesn’t actually know what’s happening. Agnes just grins and takes another bite. “You should try one, got the apples from this lovely farm upstate.”

“Okay,” he says though he sounds unsure, but he reaches over and takes the other one from the box and tries it. Some of the confusion drops away, replaced with delight.

“Told you,” she says.

She sees Luther most often from then on; it still doesn’t add up to much, maybe only once every 4 or 5 months, but she’s always glad to see him. He doesn’t talk much except when she gets him going about space once and then every time after he regales her with all kinds of information about stars and planets and orbits and stuff like that. Most of it goes right over Agnes’s head; she’s never been one for that kind of thing, she keeps her feet planted and looks around the world from the ground, but she listens intently to everything he has to say.

He’s still at the house, Agnes knows. He wears the uniform for a while and when he grows out of it there’s always a patch on his clothes with that umbrella logo. She thinks about asking sometimes, about that house, about what happened in it, but she has a feeling Luther’s not the one to ask. He doesn’t talk about his family. Once upon a time he used to praise his father every chance he got, but Agnes hasn’t heard him mention him in a long time. She keeps thinking someday he’ll walk in and announce he’s moved out, gotten a place, a job, a car, but he never does, he always goes back to that house. Agnes wonders if he still has to sneak back in.

-

Klaus tumbles through the door one night at 1 a.m. and the group that follows him in couldn’t be less like the Umbrella Academy. No one’s wearing much of anything, they’re draped over each other, everyone’s glassy eyed and giggling, Klaus included. He leads them right to the tables he’d once sat at with his brothers and sisters. Agnes feels a little betrayed then tells herself that’s silly.

“Agnes! Sweet Agnes!” Klaus trills as she approaches, “Guys this is Agnes!” The whole table choruses with enthusiastic ‘Hi Agnes!’s.

“It’s been a while,” she says to Klaus alone, teases: “Thought you’d forgotten me.”

“How could I ever do that sweet Agnes?” he reaches out and takes her hand in both of his. She’s surprised by it, the only one who ever reached out for her was when Allison hugged her. Klaus’s hand is cold. “A round of doughnuts, por favor. Whatever the chef recommends.” He gives her a hand a pat and his smile gets a little bigger, more loopy. “But no coconut, I hate coconut.”

Agnes’s heart falls to hear it.

The group is loud as they eat, and messy. They’re all on something, a lot of it. Agnes is used to the occasional reveler or post-club party stumbling in, though she gets more drunks than druggies. Agnes looks at Klaus across the room as he laughs crazily and flails wildly with every movement and she think back on the 12 year old boy who came in skipping.

It’s a while before they pack up and leave, crumbs and napkins all over the floor.

“Go on, go on, I gotta pay,” Klaus shoos the rest away and they spill out onto the sidewalk. He comes up to the register, fumbling with a couple of greasy bills from his pocket. “Excellent, as always.”

“Thank you sweetie,” Agnes says though she can hear the concern in her own voice, “you doing alright?”

“Peachy keen!” he says and flashes a wobbly smile.

“You know-” she says, ringing up the bills, “I see your brother quite a bit. Luther.” She’s being nosy, she knows it.

Klaus’s expression slips just a little, just enough that she can read the somberness behind the high. “Ah Luther. I wonder ‘bout him sometimes.”

“I’ll tell him you said hello,” Agnes says with a goading smile but she’s not actually sure what she’s looking for.

Klaus is quiet for a moment and seems to be contemplating her, it’s a little uncomfortable how suddenly thoughtful he looks. “Sure,” he says plainly, then he’s leaning forward like he’s telling her a secret. “I lied by the way, I love coconut. I was just trying to be cool.”

Agnes matches his smile and then he’s tumbling back out the door. She tells Luther ‘Klaus says hello’ about two months later but Luther just goes quiet for a minute before bringing up a new satellite they’d launched.

-

It’s near a hundred degrees out when Diego bursts into the diner one afternoon. Agnes has just started her shift and he’s her first real customer of the day. He doesn’t seem to notice her though as he stalks over to a table by the window and throws a blue shirt down and drops heavily into the chair. He makes a frustrated noise and holds his head in his hands.

Agnes approaches cautiously. “Hey there, bad day?”

Diego pulls his hands away and finally sees Agnes and despite his mood he gives a small, affable grin. “The worst.”

“You know what’s good for that?”

He pinches his lips like he’s thinking, “Sugar?”

“Got it in one.” His lips twitch a bit wider.

Agnes turns to go but she stops when Diego continues. “Fucking…cops. Right?”

She’s taken aback by this, “Well, they like doughnuts, guess that’s good enough for me.”

And he actually gives a huff of laughter at this. “Fair enough,” he shrugs. “Guess that’s the one thing we got in common,” she almost misses the last bit that he whispers under his breath. “-cause it ain’t a badge.”

She goes for the display but hesitates with the tongs above the coconut doughnuts. Something’s telling her that’d be the wrong choice, and even though that something makes her kind of sad she ends up tossing a strawberry frosted and an old fashioned on a plate instead.

“Better eat these before they melt.”

Not a problem from the way Diego stuffs the first one in his mouth and Agnes almost chuckles at how it makes him look like such a kid. He’s grown up considerably, there’s no denying he’s definitely one of those ‘macho’ types, but Agnes still sees the little boy with the round cheeks and stutter. He’d grown out of that all of a sudden and she hadn’t even realized at first.

Again he catches her before she steps away, “Hey…do women like doughnuts?” he immediately gets flustered after he says it and Agnes does fight back a smirk, “I mean, like, a woman cop would like them right? She wouldn’t think that was some joke or anything?”

Agnes almost puts a hand to her heart, it’s just too cute. “Well,” she says, “maybe if they weren’t as good as ours. You should’ve come on Valentine’s day, we had heart shaped ones.”

Diego considers this, “Two more, whichever ones you like.”

When he’s done and closing his tab and waving away the change Agnes tells him, “Don’t be a stranger now, this place got much less interesting without all of you.”

But apparently that’s the wrong thing to say because Diego’s expression turns neutral with a hint of annoyance. It’s the first time Agnes is sure she’s done something wrong when it comes to them, but when Diego says, “Never gonna find us in the same room again,” he probably doesn’t mean for it to come out as wistful as it does.

-

Agnes knows they’re shooting a movie downtown but she’s not interested in going to play paparazzi like a lot of people are. It’s a fun thing for the city but she can’t imagine herself among celebrities. Or so she thinks until she’s reminded just how many famous people she knows when Allison walks through the door one evening.

She looks lovely even though it’s obvious she’s just gotten off work, makeup wiped away and hair in a bun, wearing simple clothes. She can’t hide her movie star smile when she sees Agnes and Agnes doesn’t even hesitate when Allison wraps her up in a hug.

“Been a while sweetheart.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Allison says when she pulls away. “If it’s any consolation LA definitely doesn’t do doughnuts like you do out here.”

“I’ll take it.”

Allison chooses a seat at the counter and with a wave introduces herself to Charlie. Charlie’s like Agnes so he doesn’t have stars in his eyes but answers back genially. Agnes doesn’t ask before she’s plating up what she always figured was Allison’s second favorite doughnut – the one with the lemon crème in the middle – and Allison’s eyes light up when she sees it, a look of total enjoyment on her face as she chews.

“Definitely don’t have them like these out west.”

“So, how’ve you been? Made it to Hollywood didn’t you?”

Allison spends the next hour telling Agnes all about the movie business. Getting up at 4 a.m. to get her makeup done, the pretentious producers, the pushy cinematographers, all the gossip she can say without naming names (maybe if Agnes kept up with Hollywood she’d be able to figure it out).

“Sounds exhausting,” she says when Allison stops to finish up the doughnut that she hasn’t stopped talking enough to eat. “Another one?”

Allison gives the plate a longing look but pushes it away. “No, can’t have too many of those,” she pats her stomach but her smile is fake, “gotta fit into my dress tomorrow.”

As if she could ever look bad, Agnes thinks.

“Gonna see the others while you’re here? I’ve had your brothers come by from time to time.”

Allison’s expression falters, she looks down. “Uhm, maybe. It’s been a while,” her eyes shift for a half second towards the tables, same as Luther’s always do. “Haven’t even talked to them.”

“Bet they’d love to hear from you,” Agnes says, taking her plate away, “To hear all about your glamorous new life.”

“Maybe,” she says again and it’s the least convincing thing Agnes has ever heard. She knows the answer already. “Just the brothers though?”

“Never seen Vanya, figured she’d moved away?” Agnes just assumed.

“No,” Allison says, low and thin, “she’s still in the city.”

She pays with a hundred dollar bill like always.

She comes back the next night, and the next, for the rest of the week. Every day she’s in the city, right after they wrap for the day, she comes in and has exactly one doughnut and they chat. Allison listens to her go on about bird watching and the new couch she got and a couple of funny tales from the diner but for the most part it’s Allison doing the talking, Agnes is plenty happy to hear it. She gets the feeling, after a while, that Allison doesn’t actually get to talk to many people like this.

When the shooting is done and the production moves back to Los Angeles Allison gives her a hug and a smile that can’t hide the melancholy in it.

-

It’s almost serendipity, Agnes thinks, that Vanya’s the next one through Griddy’s door. The universe is funny like that. But Vanya couldn’t seem more opposite than Allison as she takes a seat at the counter, putting an instrument case down by her feet and a magazine on the countertop, quiet as ever.

“Hi there hon, what can I get you?” Agnes asks, cheerful as she can.

Vanya looks over at the doughnuts display case with a disinterested look. She gives a weak shrug. “Whatever’s good.”

“The glazed blueberry ones just came out,” Agnes says brightly as if hoping her mood will transfer to the woman sitting there who Agnes knows is the little girl from years ago but is having a hard time finding her in the aloof façade.

“Alright,” is all Vanya says but offers nothing more. She stares at the doughnut for a moment before taking a bite.

“Been good?” Agnes wants to say more but she can’t imagine what. She’s learned bringing up the others is shaky ground and Vanya seems like she’ll start an earthquake at the mere mention.

Vanya turns and inspects her and there’s still the strange fuzzy emptiness in her eyes when she looks at Agnes but there’s something lurking underneath. She puts her hand on the magazine and slides it over and there’s Allison on the cover, dressed in white with her arms around a man – Patrick, she’d told Agnes about him but she didn’t realize they were engaged.

“She didn’t invite me to the wedding.” It’s clear then that that ‘something’ is sorrow.

-

The next time Klaus comes in he’s alone. “Coconut, if you would sweet Agnes.”

Agnes is happy to hear it, gives it to him with a smile that’s nothing to do with diner waiter politeness, pure joy in it.

“Before you ask,” Klaus says, “I have been doing just hunky dory, as always.” He gives her a reassuring smirk.

He doesn’t look ‘hunky dory’ though. The rings around his eyes make it look like he’s gotten punched, certainly doesn’t look like he’s slept, and he’s far too skinny. It makes Agnes want to stuff a whole box full of doughnuts for him.

“Glad to hear,” she says anyway.

He starts in on the doughnut then stills when he catches sight of a book by the register. “Read that yet?”

She hesitates, “Just started.” It’s Vanya’s book. Agnes had gone back and forth about reading it, feeling again like a nosy third party, just another looky-loo trying to pry into the lives of some kids who came in only a handful of times. Doesn’t she see enough of them in the media anyway? But the bookstore she passed on the way to work every day had a big display and well, there was no harm in just buying it, Vanya would get some of the money, right?

But she read the introduction, and then a few pages more, and then more after that. She’s only on page 14, she’ll stop reading it at some point of course. She doesn’t want to be just another gossip monger. Maybe she shouldn’t have had it out.

Klaus looks at it with an expression Agnes can’t really read but it’s something like wistfulness. “Not a bad idea for a book, we had plenty of dirty laundry lying around. I should’ve thought of it first.”

“It’s pretty well written,” Agnes offers. She’s reluctant to actually bring up anything she’s learned so far. It’s not much but it’s not all…nice.

“Oh no doubt,” Klaus says airily and eats more of the doughnut. “Didn’t know she wrote.” He then mutters under his breath, “ghost writer,” and slides his eyes to the seat next to him and giggles. Those drugs make him so loopy.

“Guess I’ll read it, even though I know how it ends,” he says, polishing off the last bite, “it’s the middle bit that everyone’s gonna love though.”

He pats his pockets, looking confused at each empty one, but Agnes waves it off. “On the house hon.”

Klaus smiles, no sign of the kid in his eyes, “Thank you sweet Agnes.”

She never figures out why Klaus came in that night, just some random whim she supposes, too many drugs.

-

Diego enters same as last time only this time he throws a book down on the table, the thing nearly skittering off the other side with the force. He’s got a long scar on the side of his head that he didn’t have last time.

He’s muttering curse words under his breath, staring down at the laminate, practically bouncing with energy. Suddenly he reaches across and grabs the book, opens it to a dog eared page and reads for all of 10 seconds before throwing the thing back on the table and swearing some more.

An idea hits Agnes and she grabs for a napkin and a pen in a hurry. When she approaches Diego he’s still staring down the book like he could set it on fire with his eyes.

Agnes sets down the doughnut and Diego’s gaze snaps to the napkin where she’s written – in her fanciest handwriting – his name, and the smile that slips across his mouth seems to catch him by surprise.

“Just for you,” Agnes says.

“Sugar fixes everything huh?” he says and she knows him at least well enough that he means for it to sound cynical but fails at it.

“Always,” she smiles.

He looks over at the book again. “Not always,” he says, and takes a bite. Agnes still hasn’t finished the book herself.

-

It’s not all of a sudden that Luther stops coming in considering he’d only been coming every few months, but it is sudden when Agnes finds out why. It’s not even on the front page, the details of the accident. And in fact there aren’t many details, only that there had been one and Luther had been involved and he had lived, but that’s all. Counting the book it’s the second time she’s actively sought out information about one of the kids but this time there’s very little to find. And week after week goes by and there’s still nothing except a small blurb saying only that he’s still alive.

She’s never wanted so badly to march down to that big dumb house and bang on the door and ask plainly just what exactly is going on in there. To find out what Reginald Hargreeves is trying to hide – a great deal of it she knows now that’s she’s finished Vanya’s book. It’s something she should have done a long time ago so she can look the man in the eye and…and…

Well, that’s the thing isn’t it? That had always been the thing. What would she say or do, really? She hadn’t even known there was anything to say for a long time. A group of kids just sneaking out to have some doughnuts became a group of little superheroes. The world loved them, what a novelty! What a great thing! And they’re all just so cute!

Agnes had only had the briefest most fleeting thoughts back then about what it all really meant. She liked simple things, the Umbrella Academy kids weren’t but she pretended they were. It was easy to do at first and then just got harder. And now, well, it’s impossible and also too late. She wonders sometimes how that Tim fellow and his wife and son are doing, what they think of it all now.

The years go by again and again and she doesn’t see any of them for a long time.

-

And when she does it’s the one she’s expecting the least.

Five steps in like it’s been no time at all and looking like it too. Agnes nearly drops the coffee in her hand. He sidles up the counter and takes a seat on a stool that’s too tall for him.

“Hi Agnes,” he says.

-

-

-

Agnes doesn’t know what to think of the odd group of people that troop into Griddy’s at 9 o’clock at night except they might be one of the most mismatched bunches she’s ever seen. That they’re all wearing black head to toe in various outfits except for the one child in the group doesn’t make them less odd. They all step in and stop, look over the whole diner with surprised expressions.

“It’s exactly the same isn’t it?” the man with long hair that really could use a comb says.

“It makes sense,” the kid says, shrewd eyes inspecting the room, “I don’t think there’s any reason the timeline would have messed with Griddy’s, of all places.”

The woman with the fancy hair suddenly smacks the long haired man’s arm, eyes on Agnes as she does it. “Look, it’s her,” she says under her breath. She probably doesn’t think Agnes can hear her but she’s not so old her hearing’s gone yet, thank you very much. But it does make her even more confused.

“Hi folks,” she says, usual pep in her voice, “sit anywhere you’d like.”

The tall man – tallest she’s ever seen in fact, and most muscley too – gives another sweep before landing on the clutch of tables on the other side of the room. He gives a shrug to the others before leading them over.

They all shuffle into the chairs awkwardly except the one who’s showing far too much skin for this weather who drops down dramatically into it and sighs. Agnes supposes he is wearing a vest so it doesn’t break the ‘no shirt’ rule. Besides it’s been slow today – and the day before and before that – wouldn’t do to kick out the only customers.

“Even smells the same,” he says.

“Again, there’s no reason it wouldn’t,” the kid says, “We’re in a parallel timeline, not on a different planet.”

“If we were Luther’d be able to tell us,” the long haired man says.

The tall man, hunched over in a chair at the end of the table gives him a look, “The moon isn’t a planet.”

The long haired man snickers, and then so do most of the others save the tall man and the kid. The tall man huffs out a sigh.

“So,” Agnes says, coming up to them with her notebook in hand, “What can I get you guys?”

The elegant woman looks her in the eye and there’s a gentleness in her expression and a soft smile on her lips. Agnes can’t help but mirror it. “I heard a rumor,” the woman says, “that you know us.”

Agnes is not aware enough of it to question it, only suddenly she knows that she’s talking to Allison. And to her left is Diego, across the way is Vanya and Five and Klaus with Luther at the end. She’s sure she knew all that before, has known for a long time hasn’t she? But she’s not sure how. She feels happier now, a strange lightness in her heart now that she knows.

“Well, Allison,” she says, “what are you all thinking?”

Allison’s smile brightens, fondness in her eyes.

“Three dozen doughnuts please,” Klaus says with a flourish of his hands.

“I don’t think we can eat three dozen doughnuts anymore,” Vanya says, looking past Five to him.

“Luther could eat one box on his own,” Klaus says, giving Luther a pat on the shoulder that the other man shrinks away from.

“No, we don’t need that many,” he says.

“I could eat a dozen,” Diego says and there’s a hint of challenge in his voice.

“If you puke all over the sidewalk…” Allison says, pointing a finger in his face.

“Who do I look like? Ben?”

There’s a sudden hush that comes over them, but it seems somehow sentimental. Again Agnes feels a tug from somewhere in the back of her mind, like she knows what they’re talking about but can’t place where from or why.

“Three dozen then!” Klaus says again even more emphatically. There’s the rolling of several pairs of eyes but no one argues.

“With extra coconut ones,” Five says with a polite smile that Agnes somehow finds a little snobby. There’s a chorus of enthusiastic agreement around the table.

“Coming right up!” Agnes chirps as she pivots off to the counter. And really it’s only because it’s so empty in here, only the sound of the radio Frank’s got playing low over by the grill, that Agnes can’t help but overhear them, it’s not like she’s trying to snoop.

There’s a pause around the table first, all six of them just kind of staring off into nothing before Diego speaks up.

“Well Five this one’s weird. I mean, the first apocalypse was weird, the ‘60s were weird-”

“This one wins,” Luther finishes.

“Listen, it’s not my fault you guys screwed around in the ‘60s so much that everything got this fucked up-”

“Ah ah ah!” Klaus interrupts loudly, “Nope! Can we not? Just for like…five minutes not think about weirdness and time travel and the goddamn…fucking Sparrow Academy. I’m starving and I just. Want. A doughnut.”

“Me too,” Luther mumbles, exasperation turning into weariness.

Agnes can’t make heads or tails of the conversation. She’s overheard plenty of weird stories through the years but even her worldly wisdom can’t possibly piece all that together. The only thing that makes any kind of sense is the Sparrow Academy.

Now there’s an odd batch if there ever was one. Popped up years ago as sudden as their births had been. Kid superheroes, that was a new one. Couldn’t escape them for years there, they were in every newspaper and magazine, even now the world didn’t go a month without hearing something or other about them. Agnes always thought they looked so serious and lifeless all the time, even when they were kids. Took after that Reginald Hargreeves, who Agnes hadn’t bothered to spare much of a thought to in her whole life, he didn’t seem worth it. Not that there was much to know, really, that whole family was a mystery.

She delivers the first two boxes to the table and all six of them say ‘thank you’ in unison and they sound so much like a bunch of kids doing it Agnes almost laughs. Five hands all reach in at once in the first box, bumping into each other. They all give each other a look until Five snatches a coconut doughnut from under Diego’s hand.

As if there’s some unspoken rule they all take coconut first and something makes Agnes want to wait and see their reactions. She knows their doughnuts are the best in the city, but she wants to make sure these strangers like them. Heavens know why.

Klaus moans far too lasciviously as he chews. “Sweet Agnes, you’ve done it again.”

What she’s done and how she’s done it again she doesn’t know, but it makes her smile.

It takes a moment after she’s returned to wiping down menus for the chatter to start up in earnest, as if the sugar kicks in for all of them at once. And it all starts with Klaus saying: “Hey remember when I hit Luther in the head with the doughnut?”

From there a whole spill of memories seem to pour out of them. Agnes is guessing they’re memories which should be highly disturbing because pretty much all of them include the diner but Agnes doesn’t remember a single one. She knows them though, the fuzzy mist in the back of her brain tells her, so she just smiles.

“-remember the look on her face when you told her your name was Five?”

“And you were so mad that she didn’t even question it!”

“Why would I be mad-?”

“Cause you were so proud of it, you thought you were being so clever.”

“And she only knew Ben’s cause he horked up all his doughnuts right outside the door.”

“I’m glad we always tipped her so well.”

“Can you imagine if dad found out we’d been taking that money?”

“Pssh, he wouldn’t care. I guarantee he forgot he even had it.”

And on they go without a pause for a while, and Agnes is not technically proud of eavesdropping on the whole thing but this is most entertainment she’s had since they stopped showing Lucy reruns.

After a while Diego hiccups and looks a little woozy.

“If you throw up on me I will rumor you to do something worse than punch yourself,” Allison says, leaning away from him. “How many have you had?”

Diego has to take a second then answers “Four.”

“That’s it?” Klaus crows, “ _Ben_ would have beat you by now. Luther what’re you at?”

Luther shies back a little before admitting, “Seven.”

“Wow he kicked your ass,” Vanya says in a small chiding voice then looks around as if for approval. Luther smiles and straightens up a bit. Which Diego only takes as a further challenge, until he takes far too big a bite of an old fashioned and nearly turns green.

“Diego!” Allison warns.

Luther tilts his head towards Five then, “Is he completely out?”

Between Vanya and Klaus Five has apparently fallen asleep so solidly even the noise of the others isn’t waking him.

“Aww, his batteries finally ran out,” Klaus coos, then plucks a strawberry frosted from one lax hand. He points to the doughnut in his other hand, “I’d almost blame that on the whole ‘living in the apocalypse’ thing if he didn’t always do that.”

“Always had to have two,” Allison says with a smirk.

It’s the chiming of the bell on the door that makes them all pause and look up. A pair of truckers waddle in, greeting Agnes as always.

“Hey Roger, Travis,” Agnes says, watching as they take their usual seats at the counter.

“What time is it?” Vanya asks, “We should maybe think about finding someplace for the night.”

“I might know some places,” Diego says and off Allison’s look, “I might ok?”

She puts up her hands, “I didn’t say anything.”

They all slowly clamor out of their chairs, Vanya closing up the box with the few remaining doughnuts in it and Luther leaning over and plucking Five out of his chair. Five doesn’t even stir.

They all give Agnes a smile and a wave as they head towards the door and Allison steps up to her at the register.

“Sorry it’s not more, I wish we could leave a bigger tip,” she hands over a couple of bills, and Agnes vaguely notices that they look both new and old at the same time.

“Perfectly alright hon,” she tells her, “Glad to see you all enjoy them so much.”

Allison smiles at her like she did before, a fondness there that tugs at Agnes’s heart.

“I heard a rumor,” Allison says softly, “that you hugged me goodbye like an old friend.”

And well of course Agnes does, because this is Allison and she _is_ an old friend. A dear old friend.

Allison gives her one last smile and a wave and joins the others through the door.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far: congrats! This was originally going to be titled 'A SHORT History..." but obviously it turned into a whole thing. I did not mean for it to get this long haha. 
> 
> This fic furthers two of my personal headcanons: firstly that Luther is happy to carry his siblings whenever for no reason, and secondly that the only flavor all seven siblings can agree on is coconut, of all things. 
> 
> Come say hi if you want, I'm [michals](https://michals.tumblr.com/) over at Tumblr too.


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